


Underpinning

by Saul



Series: Assemblage [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Daemons, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Slow Burn, fuck this is gonna get dark fast, will update warnings as they apply
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4865840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saul/pseuds/Saul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A world in which Seto Kaiba bet it all against Gozaburo and lost. A world in which the consequences are felt in the little and big ripples, and Yugi spends a good deal of time wondering what to make of the boy who won't stop inviting him over to duel his blank faced brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grading

**Author's Note:**

> Daemons within this universe are an external manifestation of a person's soul. When younger, a daemon is unsettled and can take the shape of whatever fanciful creature can be thought up. Once a daemon "settles," however, it is popularly assumed that person has "found who they are," and subsequently grown up. Unless something is written to the contrary, please assume the rules governing daemons in this fic align with His Dark Materials' daemons!
> 
> Inspired from the question asked by kaibacorpintern @ tumblr: “What if Seto hadn’t beaten Gozaburo?” -- and all of the marvelous ideas that followed. 
> 
> The fic will contain implied child abuse, neglect, and other canon-typical darkness. I'll be sure to warn accordingly! As a note, I’m primarily pulling from the Japanese anime’s canon (including Series 0), though the names are English. Finally, Part 1 of the Assemblage series (which isn't an AU to canon events) isn't necessary in reading this, though Part 1 delves more into the daemon choices and fleshes out certain aspects that this fic won't address.

It started with a call on a bright, sunny, slow Saturday.

“Do we make deliveries?” A glance to the glass case filled with cards, the bright _BRAND NEW!_ stickers stark against the case’s metal. “Um, sure. Within a certain distance--”

A pause as the voice on the other end named a place far out of the way. Way, way, _way_ too far out of the way. 

“- Sorry, we don’t actua—huh?”

The voice repeated its interruption.

“You’ll… Huh?”

Again.

“Er. Uh. Really?”

Yes.

“… Okay. Okay! Okay, yeah, we can do that! When do you need them?”

As soon as possible, please, thank you. The address once more. Thank you, again. Good-bye.

“Good-bye!” 

A click and Yugi couldn’t help beaming at the phone, the amount the caller had been willing to pay rattling around his brain. At his elbow, a spider monkey stopped futzing with a newer capsule monster game, peering up at her human. It could’ve been a fake caller, sure, but the area code came from the richer part of town, and if it wasn’t fake—the bonus would more than make up for the trek! 

Though he sounded pretty young, didn’t he? What if…

…

“We’ve got to check it out.” Stated Izumi, the monkey. He set a hand on the newly added golden puzzle around his neck while he thought, somehow feeling buoyed by its presence.

What if…

Oh, who was he kidding? He’d be a much bigger liar if he said he wasn’t curious enough to at least bike over. Even if the kid didn’t have the money, that wasn’t something he could confirm until he was there.

Izumi grinned at him, her eyes big and interested.

Gathering up the requested Duel Monster packets, he bundled and packed them away into his backpack. Barely stopping to slip on his shoes, Izumi clambering quick to her customary spot on his shoulder, it was a borderline miracle he remembered to stop and yell, “I’m off to make a delivery, grandpa! Be back in an hour!” before taking off.

\---

Pulling up to a mansion that looked straight out of a Victorian-era manga, Yugi worried for a moment that the call came from a spoiled kid who had stolen his mother’s credit card. It was a valid worry, he thought, as he tentatively approached the guard house and asked to be let in to see a Mokuba Kaiba.

A niggling sense in the back of his mind said he knew the Kaiba name from somewhere—hadn’t theree been a kid with that last name in their grade? He’d transferred away months before, Yugi thought—but he couldn’t put his finger on it before arriving. Even if he had, it didn’t look like it’d matter: the guard almost laughed at him on his request. 

The guard’s daemon, a rough-ridged lizard of some breed, blinked lazily from its spot under the guard house’s desk lamp.

“Mokuba Kaiba?” An older man with salt and pepper hair, Yugi couldn’t help fiddling with his puzzle’s cord under the piercing gaze. “Is this a joke? You think you can just waltz in asking to see some kid?”

That wasn’t fair. Yugi opened his mouth to protest -

“I only need to drop off--”

\- only to be cut off by a higher-pitched, “I think he can waltz right in because I did invite him.”

Both guard and Yugi turned their attention to the shorter new-comer. It was a little reassuring to notice the guard seemed as taken aback as he was.

In the ensuing silence, the kid shot Yugi a wide smile, sticking out a hand to him. “Hi. I’m Mokuba. You’re Yugi?”

Yugi awkwardly shook the hand, nodded. His eyes unconsciously jumped to the dart of a shadow into the kid’s tangled black hair. It had to be his daemon - it looked like some sort of bug.

“Great!” The cheer didn’t fit with the guard’s stony look of disapproval, but the kid seemed to be trying really hard. Yugi tried to shake off the oddity and smile back. It half-worked. “C’mon, this way. I’ll show you were you can drop off the stuff.”

Which was _weirder than weird_ when Mokuba could have easily taken the card packets himself, but just as with the hand-shake (too adult by far – the kid couldn’t have been more than twelve!), Yugi didn’t have it in him to argue.

Izumi crowded close to his neck, her tail tightening around his neck. As always, she was the one to voice what he wished he could say. Kindly, she kept her voice to his ears only.

“I don’t like the feeling of this…”

His hands found the puzzle again, his nod impeccable against her warmth.

The mansion had been deceptive: for all its vastness on the outside, the façade was nothing compared to the maze inside. They passed more rooms than Yugi would’ve believed possible to furnish, weaving from a silk-curtained lobby to party-sized dining room to two book-packed studies, and _then_ they climbed stairs to the second story. Passing a luxurious bedroom, Yugi caught sight of a maid straightening the sheets through a door slightly ajar. Positive though he was that his eyes had grown to the size of dinner plates, he couldn’t feel too bad about it. The kid definitely had enough money to pay what he’d named over the phone. _Incredible._

Mokuba, though his acting tour guide, spoke no more than eleven words the entire time. Yugi kept up a quiet conversation with Izumi to fill in the silence.

“How many servants do you think work here?”

“I don’t know… At least a dozen.”

“Can you imagine what the kitchens must look like? Wow!”

By the time they stopped outside a closed dark wood door, Yugi felt more at ease. However, the boy turned abruptly enough to throw Yugi off-balance, the teen nearly ran into the younger kid, who in turn grimaced and glared as if he’d knocked them both to the ground. He opened his mouth to apologize, but – again, interrupting – Mokuba waved his hands dismissively before a single syllable made it out.

“It’s fine.” 

_It didn’t sound fine…_

“I have your money right here.” And so he did, pulling several triple-zero bills from his pocket as if paying triple the Duel Monster going price was no big deal. Yugi hastily dug into his backpack for the bundled cards, feeling a little foolish for not doing that sooner. As he withdrew the envelope, though, Mokuba cleared his throat and added, “But before you go, I want you to duel me.”

Yugi paused. Blinked.

Had he just heard…?

He must’ve heard wrong. 

“Sorry?”

“Duel me.” Mokuba repeated again, as if it wasn’t so weird a request. Except maybe it was – the boy’s cheeks were spotted in red, as if embarrassed. “You can duel, can’t you?”

Hands raising in a defensiveness he didn’t know he felt, his words stammered out. “W-well, I can, but I don’t have my deck--”

Mokuba waved his hand dismissively, again. “That’s fine. I bought enough we can both build a quick deck. It’ll be like in the tournaments.”

“A draft play?” Yugi offered, the whole exchange feeling surreal.

Mokuba’s mouth twitched upward, but then, as though catching himself, he tried to smooth away the smile and look—stern. Or something like it. “Yeah. A draft play.”

He must’ve sensed Yugi’s further hesitation, because he added quickly in a wheedling voice: “Come on! What do you have to lose? It won’t mean anything. It’s just a game.”

Before he could think twice, a tentative, “Okay,” slipped out. Izumi’s hold tightened on his jacket.

In contrast, Mokuba looked as if he’d been handed the world. He hopped a step back, twisting to turn the door’s knob with a, “Perfect! There’s a table in here! Come on!” 

The room inside could have been coated in gold and not looked more impressive, or more impersonal. The bed a deep four-poster, its curtains a rich blue silk; the desk the same dark wood as the door and as the bookshelves, which were fill to burst with books; even a couch set by a coffee-table, the papers atop the later neat and organized, the throw pillows on the former arranged perfectly. There was a shut closet to the side, but its carved wood might have been worth a hundred thousand yen even without whatever was inside. A gorgeous iron bird stand stood by the window, its occupant an immaculately groomed crow. It must’ve been the teen’s daemon, though it looked about as interested in the teen as it did in the new arrivals (which was to say, not at all). The room looked like something out of a magazine. Aside from the crow, it didn’t have a speck of personality.

An older teen sat at the desk, typing furiously into a dual monitored computer. Their arrival didn’t interrupt his typing. In fact, the teen didn’t even acknowledge them.

It made Yugi feel awkward not to even say hello, but Mokuba, after shooting the figure a look Yugi couldn’t describe, ignored the teen as well. 

As it turned out, they had enough Duel Monster packets for three draft play styled decks. Mokuba babbled in a way he hadn’t before, transforming into the very picture of a boy excited for a game. Yugi slowly relaxed, the game-focused small talk an easy, friendly topic. Before they finished making their decks, Mokuba shot the working teen another glance – “He looks like he wants to ask something,” whispered Izumi; Yugi agreed – while they picked their cards, but soon enough the duel began, and then all his attention was on the field.

Mokuba was pretty good. Somehow, he’d gotten two copies of Mirror Force in his deck – it made the duel go on longer than it would have. The boy’s downfall came to his reliance on brute force, though – he wasn’t adequate at using traps or spells, and soon enough, Yugi’s monster struck the last blow.

“Good game,” he said with honesty, but the black haired boy only scowled as he shuffled his graveyard back into his deck. All the earlier joviality from the boy disappeared.

“Again.”

The demand shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is. Black eyes glare up at him – by his ear, a beetle shifts into a bat with needle-thin teeth, though it does little more than look at Yugi and Izumi. 

The feeling of _wrong_ from the first time he’d walked in returns a hundred fold; Izumi shivers, standing higher on his shoulder. She wants to go, he can tell. But the boy—

“One more! A rematch!” – Wheedles, voice verging on begging. His hesitance breaks under the demand, eyes turning down. Izumi huddles closer.

“Okay, okay. A rematch.” 

In the corner of his eye, the puzzle’s sharp edge catches the window’s light.

The second duel is a disaster of strategy on Mokuba’s part. He seems rattled, off-balance, and the nervousness in turn makes Yugi’s stomach flip-flop, his shoulders hunching in the more agitated Mokuba grows. At one point, Yugi opens his mouth to make a suggestion on what card to use, but thinks better about it when a _third_ Mirror Force appears on the field.

“Is he cheating?” Izumi whispers, clinging tight to Yugi’s hair. Mokuba’s daemon’s eyes snap toward them, giving Yugi a jolt. He swallows, and decides not to comment.

He wins again, though by the skin of his teeth. Mokuba threw the cards on the table, making him jump; the boy then bit his lower lip and stared for a long stretch of silence at seemingly nothing. Yugi fidgeted in spot, thinking distantly he needed to get back before his grandpa started worrying.

Mokuba came back to himself not too long after. He paid Yugi in full, though he once more clammed up. What was more, he wouldn’t look Yugi in the eye. Before they left, Mokuba paused and again glanced back, his lower lip caught in his teeth once more.

The other teen hadn’t once paused in his work (which looked outrageously complicated, all spinning graphs and charts and evaluations). Their exit changed nothing. 

And yet, after a second of looking – “We could play later.” – Mokuba spoke with caution.

The teen at last paused in his typing. Yugi blinked, expecting him to turn around and agree.

Instead, the voice so cold Izumi squeaked in surprise:

“Get those useless things out of my room.”

Mokuba said two words to him on the way out – _thanks_ and _bye_ \- with his eyes trained on the floor and his hands balled tight at his side. His daemon became a raggedy coyote, pacing in irritation around them as they walked. He let Yugi go at the gates; he turned on a heel and didn’t look back.

The guard was the same, curling his lip up at Yugi’s small wave as he left. His lizard daemon blinked lazily on their departure, absolutely silent.

It was an all-around discomforting experience, with the money made not coming even close to easing the tight feeling in Yugi’s chest. 

It wasn’t until he was back in the gameshop, which had grown incredibly busy while he was gone (“Of course, the moment you have to leave! And where were you for so long?” asked his grandpa in between hauling in more crates of Duel Monster cards), that he managed to shake off the cold feeling the mansion had put into his bones and set the events aside as _just plain weird._


	2. Cement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Duelist Kingdom, and the visitation to follow.
> 
> Inspired from the question asked by kaibacorpintern @ tumblr: “What if Seto hadn’t beaten Gozaburo?” -- and all of the ideas that followed. I hope to do it justice!

In the following weeks, there wasn’t much time to think about the Crazy Rich People Incident, as Joey dubbed it after Yugi had explained the odd delivery and duel. For one, a different crazy rich person kidnapped his grandpa’s soul. For another, the Duelist Kingdom tournament was a _whirlwind_ of adventure.

From Weevil to Mai to Bandit Keith to Pegasus himself, and everything in between—the time flew by. By the day after the final duel, Yugi felt as though he was just beginning to process the last battle: the twisting shadows, a physical, choking container that brought him to his knees too quickly ( _no,_ whispered the Spirit, _you lasted longer than anyone else_ ). By sunrise, news of Pegasus’s injury reached their small party. It was more than concerning even if the man had tried time and again to torment them, though the concern for a previous foe paled in comparison to a more pertinent problem: the fact that news on how they were getting off the island failed to follow up.

They were informed the ferry would return anywhere between a week to three weeks later. Pegasus had to be taken by helicopter to a hospital better suited for intensive cases. No, they couldn’t ride on the helicopter. They were welcome to stay at the Pegasus residence until the ferry arrived, but they would need to pay their own way back. 

Joey had a check to cash. Yugi had a grandpa to see. Bakura, Tristan, Tea, Mai – where had Bandit Keith gone, anyway? – well, they wanted to get home as much as anyone else. 

“I can’t believe he’s making us _pay_ ,” groused Joey, head hung low. They were gathered in the courtyard. From where they had been playing in a flower bed, Tristan’s black lab daemon, Shelby, pawed at Joey’s pitbull daemon, Dani, who – distracted by her human’s spike in anxiety – half-heartedly huffed back at her. “I barely had enough to sign up for this stinking tournament!” 

“You’ve got more than enough to pay your way back now,” pointed out Tea. She seemed the most collected, but the way she hadn’t moved her hand from the back of her gazelle daemon’s neck betrayed her anxiety. Three weeks was a long time to wait. 

“Sure! If only haughty-totty Pegasus had a _bank_ inside his massive castle as well as a creepy dungeon. What ferry accepts checks? That’d be stupid.” 

Tea bristled. “I’m just trying to help!”

Joey opened his mouth to reply, but – mercifully – Mai intervened.

“Please. They wouldn’t leave only one of us behind. If you really don’t have any cash on you, Wheeler, I’ll loan you enough to get back – but the second you cash that prize money, you’re paying me back.”

Her offer came off just pointed enough to be a jab, though her fox daemon yawned from where he sunned himself atop a rock. Joey’s spine snapped straight, but after a second ticked by and no immediate snap-back appeared, he let out a breath and deflated.

“Yeah, okay... That’d be great.” Scuffing his shoe at the ground, he turned his eyes back toward the mansion. “If he’d had more time, I bet he would have installed a bank…”

Shelby, still in the flower bed, renewed her efforts to draw Dani into a play fight. Tristan made a boast to Joey the same time Dani acquiesced, their worries about timing set aside for another hour.

“Maybe you’ll pay me back with interest,” Mai continued with a private grin, to which Joey squawked indignantly and protested vehemently.

Off to the side of all the excitement, Yugi found himself sharing a thin smile with Bakura. Three weeks was a long time, but… It could come sooner. There was hope.

Speaking of hope, another discovery made during their adventure in the Duelist Kingdom: the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle.

Now, _he_ was something else. The second night their group stayed in the Pegasus mansion was the first night Yugi sat down and really spoke with the Millennium Puzzle’s occupant. It went about as well as anyone could expect, which was to say it didn’t go awfully.

The Spirit didn’t know his own name. He didn’t know why or how he came to be in the Puzzle, either, only that he had been in it for a long time and Yugi was the first to draw him forward. Was there a reason they looked so similar? Not that he knew of. Could they have spoken earlier? No, he didn’t think so; he hadn’t known what he was in the beginning, and he had mostly reacted on instinct. Is he why bullies began to leave Yugi alone? Yes. Did Yugi mind? No, but what happened to a few of them had sounded… Unpleasant. The Spirit swore his punishments were only what was just.

Yugi wondered privately if the Spirit was why he won Duelist Kingdom at all, if maybe he didn’t have merit on his own. It wasn’t a comfortable thought, but it wasn’t the time. He shoved the worry away, and refocused on the Spirit floating next to his bed.

\-- _Does it hurt?_

Does what hurt? 

_You being a spirit._

_No._ A pause. _It’s much better now that you can see me. Now that we can talk like this._

The two fell silent after that, eying each other uneasily. Yugi’s gaze drifted down to his lap, where Izumi was curled up, taking in Yugi's side of the conversation with an unusual silence. It seemed to be that she couldn't hear the Spirit, but always knew where he manifested himself. She shivered, even after he covered her with his hand. She was anxious, he realized. She didn’t like the Spirit. No – it would be fair to say she feared him.

Yugi looked back up in time to catch the Spirit watching them with an indescribable emotion on his face. Once their eyes met, the Spirit hurriedly glanced away. Yugi almost asked—thought better of it—and then, in a burst, asked anyway.

_Is there a reason you don’t have a daemon?_

Silence. Izumi trembled again under his fingers, curled into a tight ball.

The reply came quietly, long after Yugi thought the Spirit wouldn’t answer.

_I don’t know._

\---

The second call Yugi answered came a week after the Kame Game Shop regained its routine. They saw a boost in traffic due to Yugi’s new title as King of Games. His grandpa spent less and less time recovering in his bed and more on the ground floor, which was how Yugi learned that a certain caller kept asking for him after ordering a number of booster packs, which wasn’t so unusual, except the caller refused to complete his purchase unless Yugi was the one on the phone. 

It made his mother worry his newfound popularity (though she didn’t understand where that came from, either) had brought stalkers to his door, but Yugi wasn’t so sure.

Still, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when Mokuba Kaiba was the mysterious repeat caller.

“Yugi Mutou?” Asked the young voice, sounding as serious as ever. With a rush, Yugi realized he hadn’t thought of Mokuba Kaiba since Duelist Kingdom’s start. “Hi. Okay. I’d like to order six packets. I need them delivered to..."

Same address, same item number, same monetary bonus for going out of their usual range, same strange, specific rulings.

“We could refuse,” muttered Izumi into his ear, as she leapt from atop the register to his shoulder. “Last time was really weird. I didn’t like the way that kid twisted our arm into a duel.”

“You don’t like a lot of things, lately.” Yugi pointed out as he bundled the requested cards. Izumi’s lip curled, but she hunkered down with less than a token grumble, clinging tight.

It made him glance at her uncertainly – her behavior had been nothing short of erratic since returning – but he shook it off as he headed out for his bike. Shouting a “Delivery! I’ll be back in an hour or so, grandpa!” as he went, he slipped on his backpack and double-checked his puzzle’s cord before riding off. 

“I’m thinking of trading the cord for a chain. It’ll be more secure that way.” He mused aloud as he rode, though he was met with silence from both the Spirit (who didn’t talk much) and Izumi (who didn’t ever want to talk about the puzzle). Repressing a sigh—sometimes he felt like he was the middleman between a feuding couple! Honestly! – he returned his attention forward, the wealthy neighborhood arriving not near fast enough.

At last the houses’ yards grew in size, the fences elaborate more than protective. After a handful of homes that turned Yugi’s head even as he went by, he pulled up to the guard house outside the Kaiba mansion. The same guard sat within, his lizard daemon blinking its same slow blink under the desk’s lamp. Yugi knew this because the way the guard looked at him was exactly like before, which was eerily similar to how Bandit Keith had looked at Joey: with utmost disdain, as if a bug had the gall to be crushed near his foot and look gross in his presence.

Unlike the time before, Mokuba was quicker to greet him. The guard’s scowl deepened, but again, he said nothing as the boy led Yugi inside.

Again, Mokuba maintained silence as he took Yugi through the mansion’s maze. Again, Yugi caught glimpses of servants changing the sheets or watering potted plants. Again, Mokuba paid him right as they stopped outside a tall, dark door.

Unlike before, as Mokuba withdrew the money, Yugi felt himself say, “Do you want to duel me again?”

And then for the first time that day he really looked Mokuba in the eye, which made him blink in surprise. The boy had a purpling bruise across his cheek, but he kept the same serious, near-scowl of before. Yugi had to wince in sympathy: the boy might’ve been rich, but he was also scrawny and short, and a little weird besides… He must’ve had issues with bullies. Yugi could get that.

The boy in question knew nothing of the thoughts in Yugi’s mind, but something on his face must’ve shown through, because the near-scowl dropped to a full scowl.

“No.” He sounded peevish. “I want you to duel Seto.”

Oh. That wasn’t expected. “Seto?”

“My big brother.” Quieter, but that just made the words sound harsher. He shoved the money at Yugi’s chest, hand a tight fist. “You want the money or not? If you do, you’ve got to duel him.”

“Who’s—“ Yugi started as he clumsily grabbed the money, but Mokuba cut him off by abruptly turning and yanking the door open. He had no choice except to follow.

Right before he crossed the threshold-- _Yugi?_ Yugi couldn’t keep himself from jumping and glancing back at where the Spirit hovered. How long had he been watching--? _Be cautious. Something isn’t right._

He wanted to reassure the Spirit that this had happened before, it was nothing weirder than what they’d gone through before, and hadn’t he some recollection of the Kaiba brothers, anyway? The puzzle had definitely been completed. But before he could mentally send any of that information through their odd, tremulous link, Mokuba spoke and he had to turn his eyes back to the boy. 

“Seto, it’s Yugi Mutou. He won the Duelist Kingdom tournament. You should duel him.” 

The room looked the same as it did before, with the singular exception that instead of sitting at his computer, the brown-haired teenager sat on the sofa. He still had a laptop open and running, and his crow daemon was still perched, unconcerned, at the window. Come to think of it, Yugi hadn’t caught even a glimpse of Mokuba’s daemon. 

The big brother, Seto, looked up from his laptop for one brief second. Both Yugi and Izumi squeaked when the ice blue eyes landed on them, feeling as though the other took a scalpel to their very essence – a reaction which Yugi _swore_ caused Seto to narrow his eyes further. 

The scrutiny must have unearthed what he wanted, as the teen’s eyes fell back to his laptop without a word.

It was more than they’d gotten last time. A few awkward seconds ticked by. Mokuba took a half-step forward, his whole body tense as a wound spring. 

“Pl--” The younger brother began, a word that died in his throat. He cleared his throat, and started again. “He’s the current King of Games.” 

Now it was Yugi’s turn to frown. “I don’t think--”

“So?” The teen broke in. “I don’t have the time to bother with silly games, Mokuba. In fact, neither do you. Or didn’t you learn that?”

Again blue eyes glanced up, but this time it was solely for Mokuba. The younger boy flushed, red spreading across the tips of his ears and then his cheeks, turning the bruise on his cheek a deeper, uglier purple. He grit his teeth, but – to Yugi’s surprise – he didn’t say anything back. After a moment, Seto likewise returned his eyes to the laptop.

These two were _brothers?_ Yugi never would have guessed. They acted like complete strangers!

… No… Seto did. Mokuba acted like someone trying to get an uninterested party’s attention, and given their apparent age difference… Wasn’t it natural to want an older sibling’s approval? He didn’t have any siblings of his own, of course, but it felt like that was right.

“Given his competition in the tournament,” Seto continued unbidden, which appeared to catch Mokuba as off-guard as it did Yugi, “It isn’t a surprise he won.”

Uh?

“Perhaps if Pegasus stuck to business instead of games, he wouldn’t have been laid up in the hospital. Then again,” without a single flicker in expression, “humiliation like that is only fitting for a loser.”

It had taken the ferry ten days to show up to Pegasus’s island. They had plenty of time to explore the island without the dangers from the tournament; moreover, they had plenty of time to get to know each other, and Yugi felt he could say with confidence that they, whether it be Joey, Tristan, Tea or Mai or Bakura, were friends. The Spirit, too, for all Izumi disliked him—Yugi definitely felt he was worth trust and friendship.

Needless to say, to imply those in the tournament were less than good, and deserved to feel shameful of their placement—Yugi couldn’t let that lie! He took his own step forward, chin up.

“You think the competitors played less than their best? Everyone there gav--”

“That isn’t what I said.” Seto cut in smoothly, which was at least a habit the Kaiba brothers shared. “And that isn’t what matters. All that matters is they lost.”

“—What are you --”

“You’re here because Mokuba paid you, aren’t you?” In the corner of his eye, he saw Mokuba stiffen even further, whole face now red. “Take your money and your cards. Go home. This isn’t a place for children.” 

Reflexively Yugi glanced at Mokuba, who had his eyes trained on his shoes, every inch of him radiating humiliation. This was a disaster, Yugi realized. This was something Mokuba had put effort in and – in his brother’s eyes – lost. Why? Why would Mokuba put so much on this, and why would Seto embarrass his brother so? He must’ve known the rejection would humiliate the boy. Yugi struggled to come up with some rebuttal, but in the end, Mokuba ushered him out with quick, bit-out words before he could reply.

… No.

No.

“Wait.”

He forced himself to a stand-still before crossing the threshold, turning on a heel with his arms straight at his sides. In the room, he spied the Spirit hovering at the end of the sofa. The Spirit’s nod bolstered his confidence, let him finish what had popped into his mind. He had Mokuba’s attention for sure, the boy’s mouth agape, but he couldn’t tell with Seto. 

Well, too late to stop now!

“Duel me. I challenge you.”

The hesitation lasted only a nanosecond, but for that brief moment, Seto’s fingers froze over the keyboard. 

In the back, Yugi swore the crow daemon looked straight at the Spirit. After he blinked, though, he couldn’t say the bird had moved at all. 

Silence stretched from Yugi’s side as Seto started typing again. Right before his shoulders slumped too low and he turned to trudge out the door, the teen’s voice stopped him.

“Alright.” With a quiet click, Seto closed his laptop. “I accept.”

 _Be cautious_ , the Spirit said again, echoed in the way Izumi’s hands tightened once again on his shoulder. Yugi nodded to them both and himself, keeping his chin up with a confidence he didn’t fully feel as he strode back to sit opposite the teen. Mokuba scrambled to take a quiet, uncertain place behind Yugi, and then they were opening packs and splitting cards.

\---

Sigh escaping him in a rush, Yugi flopped face-first onto his bed, backpack slipping from his fingers to plop on the ground. Izumi flopped in a similar fashion next to him, her sigh more of a drawn-out chitter.

“What a brute!” She said into the covers, which he nodded empathetically to.

 _He certainly played to win._ The Spirit agreed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed without adding any pressure. Yugi nodded again.

Seto played brutally, with little regard for his life points or monsters. It had been a drawn-out, intense match, even though the random pick of cards meant both of their decks had cards that varied wildly in application. It had been more his opponent’s presence than his cards, Yugi thought, that made the duel so emotionally draining. It had been like playing against an ice cube. No, wait – it had been like playing against a brick wall with ice in front, so it was easy to slip and smash into the stone. Seto pulled no punches, gave no platitudes, neither smiled nor scowled. The only times he spoke was to describe what his cards did, his intonation flat, if not bored. The game had been a near thing, with the last round coming down to a single card’s flip effect. 

In the end, they had locked down each other's fields, and came to a tie. For all Seto's talk of anything less than a win deserving humiliation, he took the draw with good grace. Or at least Yugi supposed it was good grace; in truth, it felt like nothing had happened. Seto simply nodded, gathered up his cards, handed them to Yugi, and turned back to his laptop.

“He didn’t change expression once… No matter what happened.” Murmured Yugi, rolling over to stare up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” muttered Izumi in reply, tucking herself up against his side like they had after a particularly tough day. “How eerie. Though someone as good as him, it makes you wonder why he wasn’t in the tournament.”

 _He was startlingly good._ The Spirit added, arms crossed over his chest. _Even without a set deck, his strategy was impeccable._

Yugi turned over the question, realizing it didn’t really make sense. 

The Spirit hummed. _Although he pushed his deck too far. If he held more regard for the monsters’ abilities and individual strengths, he might have won._

“Well.” Yugi said aloud, after another contemplative silence filled the room. Discomfort came and went between him and the Spirit of the puzzle: some days it felt like they were meant to be together, like the Spirit was as normal as his right arm, but other days—or, more accurately, some hours of the day—the fact the Spirit couldn’t seem to do anything but hang around Yugi made him feel awkward, if not a little bad. Surely the guy wanted to do things on his own, even if he insisted he didn’t. Sharing a body would take some more getting used to. “Maybe he’d been invited but didn’t have time to go. He seems busy.”

He couldn't help but remember Seto's cold _this isn't a place for children_ , even though he himself couldn't be much older than Yugi. Even though his brother couldn't have been older than thirteen. Even though it was in their own _home._

“Busy or not, who’d treat their family like _that?_ ” This grumble came from his side, Izumi a small ball of black fluff. Yugi privately agreed.

But it wouldn’t do to dwell too much on it. 

“Now that we’ve played him, we probably won’t hear from Mokuba again. I think our being invited over was always about getting his brother to duel.” A pause. Yugi glanced at the so-called _other him_ , whose expression was twisted in concentration. “… Spirit? You okay?”

The Spirit’s eyes snapped to him, at which Yugi just barely kept himself from flinching under. Sometimes, the Spirit could get intense.

 _It’s nothing._ Eventually, the puzzle’s occupant’s gaze gentling the longer he looked at his host. _They’re an odd pair. But you’re right. It’s best not to dwell._

Yugi nodded yet again. At his side, Izumi poked a finger into his stomach – over his token protest of ‘hey!,’ she sniffed unhappily. “Is he saying something? He’s saying something, isn’t he? Tell me!” 

The Spirit guffawed, glancing away as Yugi placated her. He faded back into the puzzle – or wherever he went – with a smile at the mock debate that sprung up afterward, which focused, curiously enough, on the merits of leather over gold. 

The Kaiba brothers’ oddity didn’t disappear from their minds completely, but it shifted safely to the back of their thoughts.


	3. Framing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly: the ties that bind.
> 
> Inspired from the question asked by kaibacorpintern @ tumblr: “What if Seto hadn’t beaten Gozaburo?” -- and all of the ideas that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick daemon refresher! Izumi is Yugi's spider monkey; Danielle is Joey's pitbull; Charlie is Tea's gazelle; Shelby is Tristan's black lab; Seto's and Mokuba's are unknown.

Once is chance. Twice is coincidence. Thrice is a pattern.

The call comes a week and a half from the last at exactly the same time as the other two had. Yugi is the one to answer, though he nearly misses it while untangling himself from another overinvested King of Games fan. Not two days before, Rebecca Hawkins had attempted to trap him in a duel for everything he and his grandpa were worth, which was _technically_ unrelated to the King of Games title, but that was hardly on Yugi’s mind during the weekend rush. It had been non-stop all Saturday! Locals now knew without a doubt where he worked, which meant any kid with free time showed up. In truth, the popularity was starting to be ridiculous!

“I’ll entertain the fan, don’t you worry,” piped Izumi, racing across the counter to politely catch the younger boy’s parrot daemon’s attention. 

Yugi caught his breath in one second and snatched the phone off its cradle in the next. He might’ve sounded a little winded, but who could blame him? “Hello? Kame Game Shop.” 

“Yugi Mutou?” 

Yugi blinked at nothing, immediately matching voice to face. _Huh._ He had honestly not expected Mokuba to call again.

Oh, right. He had to say something. “Mokuba, right? Hey! What can I do for you?”

“… Yeah.” The voice sounded surprised, which Yugi thought a little odd. He was just being friendly. After a too-long beat, Mokuba cleared his throat and continued. “Hi. I’d like to order six packets, to be delivered in Domino City’s west district.”

Sending a quick glance over his shoulder to gauge Izumi’s success in distracting their more persistent customer, while also making a quick head count of who else there was to help, Yugi couldn’t keep from biting the inside of his cheek.

Mokuba went through the usual dialogue as Yugi counted. At the end, Yugi packed in as much apology as he could – which wasn’t too hard, given he honestly did feel bad. 

“We’re actually really busy right now,” one hand pushing back his bangs, blowing air out as he shifted all his weight to one foot. “I don’t think I could make the delivery, even with the bonus. The shop closes later this evening – they could be delivered then.”

Silence cut the air between them, prickly as a startled porcupine. It went so long Yugi tentatively prodded with a, “Mokuba? Hello?” which, at least, seemed to snap the boy out of whatever distracted him.

“No.”

Voice oddly stifled, almost…

“No. That won’t work. Only the next few hours work.” 

Almost… angry? Yugi froze, breath held tight. He wasn’t good at dealing with angry customers in general, but with Mokuba, who thus far had been so unpredictable… It was a frightening prospect. 

The next piece was just as startling. “I’ll double the delivery bonus.” 

“W-what?” He could feel Izumi’s curiousity through their bond, but as any good worker, she kept chatting with the parrot. “No, no, Mokuba, you don’t have to do that. You’re already paying too much!”

“It has to be in the next few hours,” Mokuba repeated, voice harsh as flint. “Name your price. I’ll match it. I have—I have a lot saved up, it’s time that’s the problem.”

If they’d been in the market to make a pretty buck, Yugi thought, they wouldn’t own a game shop. 

“I really can’t… There aren’t any employees to take my place, and my grandpa--”

“—Fine.” Bitten off. “I get it. It’s fine.”

Oh, shoot. “M-Mokuba?”

“What if I worked in your place?” All at once, the voice dropped from anger to a whisper, as if the boy was talking to himself. “I’ll work, and you can come and duel my… Duel Seto.” A beat passed wherein Yugi wasn’t sure to say, before Mokuba flipped back to barely restrained irritation. “No. I get it. That wouldn’t work.” And, finally, almost – fragile, for once sounding his age: “I just…”

It took Yugi a second too long to realize Mokuba wasn’t going to continue. He glanced at the phone, dropping his hand to his side, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

For the first time, Yugi took a moment to step back and _think_ about what he saw in the mansion. Wealthy, yes, neither of the brothers probably in want. But also startlingly impersonal, and even more, horribly… Quiet. Every time Mokuba led him through the mansion, the only talk to be heard had been between Yugi and his own daemon. _In fact_ , Yugi realized with a jolt, he couldn’t think of a single instance a member of the household’s daemons spoke. The silence created the weird atmosphere he’d picked up on, but he hadn’t understood its significance until that moment. Even having pinpointed the issue, he wasn’t sure how to address it – it was just so… foreign.

Aside from the daemons, there were the brothers themselves. A younger sibling trying desperately to engage an older one in play, even if he wasn’t the one to duel Seto. An older sibling consistently working, with no kindness or attention for those around him. He couldn’t think of a single positive thing Seto said.

From that, he also supposed he had reason to be upset at the older brother. He had insulted his friends, the Duelist tournament, and, before that, Duel monsters, all within a handful of sentences. But with the mansion’s chill, he… couldn’t bring himself to take the insults personally. If anything, they had been worryingly empty, just like the duel they had. And Mokuba… Trying so, so hard to get his brother to play, to the point he paid a stranger triple the going rate to bike out and duel—withstanding his brother’s disregard and insults to, at least, try. Another may have found it pitiable. Yugi, for one, found it incredibly saddening.

Yugi glanced once more over his shoulder, spotting Izumi openly staring at him despite the parrot daemon chattering away. She raised her chin and frowned. He shrugged, helpless, back at her.

 _Let’s go._ This time, Yugi didn’t jump when his other self spoke from seemingly nowhere. _I don’t like how he’s pestering you, but you’re a kind person, Yugi. A little too kind, sometimes. Letting down this boy – you won’t be able to let your heart rest if you do that._

The Spirit probably had him there. He sighed, inaudible.

“Okay.”

Even if he didn’t say anything, Yugi knew he had Mokuba’s full attention.

“Okay. I can’t stay long, but okay. I’ll be right over, with the cards. –- For what you usually pay! Really, it’s already too much!”

Mokuba thanked him profusely, voice trembling, and maybe if he were the sort to think twice he’d wonder if the sadness had been a trick, but mostly Yugi calculated how long it would take him to bike there and back, and how much he’d owe his grandpa once he got back.

He hung up, apologized to the customer and, pausing only for Izumi to jump to his shoulder, beat a hasty exit.

“I should never leave you alone to make deals,” his daemon huffed, but it was nothing more than a token protest. Their priorities ran along similar lines; he didn’t have to explain the full conversation he’d had with Mokuba for her to pick up on the boy’s anguish and ignite her want to help.

The packets, at least, were easy to snag. Plus, the runs _were_ a good profit, even factoring in the work he missed out on.

 _And_ , murmured the Spirit as if from far away as he went to fetch his grandpa with even more apologies at the ready, _I wouldn’t mind meeting them again, either._

\---

 _May I…?_

Yugi hesitated just as he opened his first booster pack. Izumi glanced at him from her spot on his shoulder, big black eyes somehow knowing. Mokuba, to his other side, didn’t seem to notice, though Seto’s eyes flitted briefly in his direction. 

He had entered without more than a frown from the guard, the procedure from Game Shop to Kaiba mansion becoming oddly familiar. Odder was the fact Mokuba made his first attempt at small talk. It was awkward, the topics jumping quicker than Yugi could keep track of: first, _how are you?_ , second, _do you watch any sports?_ , third, _who’s your favorite Duel Monster?_ , fourth and fifth and sixth all only vaguely related to the one before. It made returning the questions near impossible, but more than that, it made Yugi’s head spin. Once they arrived at the tall, dark door, the questions stopped, Mokuba quieting with a wary look toward the figure on the couch. 

And yet, this time was the easiest yet in convincing Seto Kaiba to duel. He made them wait in silence for twenty seconds, which had made Izumi hmph under her breath (“Mokuba knows we’re on a clock! He should, too!”), but then he set aside the laptop and turned his attention toward, if not them, at least the booster packs.

Then…

 _You want to duel?_ Yugi sent back to the Spirit, having to concentrate an extra beat to make sure he didn’t say it aloud.

 _It’s been a while._

_You dueled Rebecca a few days ago!_

That, at least, put a note of sheepishness into the Spirit’s (mental? Telepathic? What was the proper word, here?) tone. _This is… different._

Finishing unraveling the first pack, the teen looked down at the random collection of cards. It wasn’t too bad a start. 

It was also – and this is what convinced Yugi to give a mental nod and hand over metaphorical reins to their shared body – the first time he could recall the Spirit requesting something other than a slight change to their duel deck. Usually their body switching hinged on the imminent destruction of someone or something. For all the mystery his other self posed in his life, after Duelist Kingdom—no, after just talking through otherwise lonely nights—they were friends. Yugi would and had gone so far as to call the Spirit his partner; that held true here, in a quiet mansion with a pair of strange brothers, too.

The small brush of excitement Yugi felt on the Spirit assuming control made the jarring feel of displacement worth it.

He noticed from outside his body that Mokuba looked momentarily startled, staring with wide-eyes at his physical body’s shoulder before darting his eyes all over their small shared space, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what startled Mokuba. Shaking off the odd look, he instead peered over his other self’s shoulder, commenting on his card choice in a way the Spirit never would have. 

It predictably got him a comment of _must you?_ , but the very next question was _how do you feel about Black Hole?_ , so Yugi smiled. 

When the duel began, Yugi happened to glance up toward the window. There, the crow – he’d swear up and down - _stared_ at him. Him-him, that was, his spirit form, the one people decidedly couldn’t see under normal circumstances. He held the bird’s gaze for too long to be comfortable, but then the daemon was the first to look away. It shifted its weight on the perch, hunkering down and returning to steadfastly ignoring them.

On the other side of the table, Seto Kaiba began his turn with a monster they had seen from the last duel.

\---

Yugi’s other self won by the skin of his teeth. It made him straighten with hard-won victory, his smile a more confident smirk as compared to Yugi’s usual abashed half-grin. Seto Kaiba’s eyes lingered on the other a second longer than what Yugi thought was normal, but then the teen nodded again, gathered up his cards, handed them over, and turned back to his laptop. 

Unlike before, the Spirit didn’t let him shut down the conversation so easily. This would be a day of a lot of firsts, Yugi realized. 

It usually was, with the Millenium Puzzle’s Spirit around.

“You don’t want to discuss the duel?”

Mokuba sat up. For maybe the third time, Yugi glimpsed a black-cased beetle peeking out from the boy’s messy hair.

The reply was cool as still, deep water. Similarly, it seemed a warning to watch one’s step. “There is nothing to discuss.”

“You fought well.” His other self pressed, leaning forward onto his elbows. “If you had waited a turn to activate the Magical Cylinder, you might have won.”

“I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t wait a turn. You expected me to play defensively after the destruction of--“

“No.” Kaiba cut in, smooth and sharp as glass. “I didn’t win. So there’s nothing to discuss.”

 _That_ caught the Spirit off guard. Yugi saw his eyebrows pinch together, the corners of his mouth tightened. Apparently, that was all Seto wanted to say on the matter—after a quarter minute’s pause, the Spirit continued, voice a touch more cautious.

“Both sides, winner and loser, have something to learn from a loss.”

This, Kaiba didn’t dignify with a response. He kept his attention on his laptop, fingers racing across the keyboard. Yugi’s body’s frown deepened.

“It doesn’t end here. You can always get back on your feet, and fight another day.”

Still, no response. 

_I don’t think you’re going to get one,_ whispered Yugi into the silence, in response to which he felt a reluctant acknowledgement.

Mokuba ushered them out soon after that, inadvertently reminding Yugi he was supposed to make this a _short_ meeting—he raced out, shouting his thanks for inviting him and the duel, missing Mokuba’s small wave and a maid’s startled gasp.

\---

As it turned out, the loss wasn’t the end. Not a week later, they received another phone call and offer of a duel. Fifteen days after that, another.

Again and again, Yugi biked the distance and dueled Mokuba’s brother. One time he dueled, ending in a draw; the next, the Spirit dueled, ending in a win. Yugi couldn’t have said what it was, but the Spirit seemed to search for something while either of them dueled Seto. Whatever he looked for, he didn’t manage to find – the pacing and restlessness radiating from the puzzle on the evenings after told Yugi as much. 

“He’s being petulant,” Izumi declared after the fifth duel, sprawled haphazard over Yugi’s head. She might not have been able to see him, but she still acted particularly clingy and agitated after he took over Yugi’s body. “Don’t let him get to you. -- Hey, wasn’t there a new game that just shipped in? Can we play that?”

Mokuba grew chattier and chattier, filling up what had been silence with opinions on a myriad of topics. Yugi often barely got a word in. It was fine, though: the boy started greeting him at the gate, grinning small and coy as if he had some grand secret, at times practically leaping toward their destination outside the dark door. He began a running commentary over Yugi and his brother’s duels, complete with the – very, very occasional – sound effect. It was endearing, Yugi thought, even if the more time they spent together the odder it felt that Mokuba’s daemon had yet to even introduce itself to Izumi.

Which was, as far as he knew, a _universally_ normal thing to do. Daemons spoke to daemons. Humans spoke to humans. You didn’t talk to another person’s daemon, sure, but for that daemon to blatantly ignore your daemon… 

It wasn’t right, but there wasn’t much to be done about it.

The boy’s moods also, Yugi learned, flipped at a moment’s notice. Everything could be proceeding as usual, Mokuba finishing a joke or comment or shared grin with Yugi, but then something – the distant shut of a door, a particularly drawn-out silence as the duelists thought what to play, a single word from his brother – happened to chase the joy from his face and drag up the scowl. The moments unbalanced Yugi; it would be a lie to say he didn’t find them discomforting, if only for their absolute unpredictability. Once, after ten minutes of visibly growing more and more restless, poking at the furniture and picking at his clothes and stealing glances at his brother that he must have thought neither of them noticed, the boy stood up and stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

“Should we go check on him…?” Yugi had asked, twisted around to stare uncertainly at the door after five minutes passed and Mokuba hadn’t reappeared. 

In answer, Mokuba’s brother simply played another card. 

Seto, in contrast, changed not a bit. He always had work when they appeared. He always made them wait anywhere between thirty seconds to several minutes before he would put the work aside and take up a packet. He answered only when asked a direct question, replying even less to Mokuba. Whether a draw or loss, the ending remained the same: a nod, polite returning of cards, and turn back to his work.

Yet, seemingly without Seto intending, small patterns appeared. The teen favored certain cards even if they weren’t necessarily the best picks. He took more time to consider his hand before playing. 

And for all that he made them wait, he never again protested playing. 

Against his own better judgement, Yugi found himself making sure he was in the Game Shop around the time Mokuba always called. In fact, it became so common place for him to be unavailable at 4:30 in the afternoon, his friends began to ask where he went.

They were seated in their usual spot at the burger joint Tea worked for, the dog daemons a pile of limbs under the table with Izumi a monkey-shaped splotch on top. Charlie, Tea’s gazelle daemon, kept the look-out for her manager’s approach at the end of the aisle, though Tea insisted he was looking for _customers,_ not the manager, _jeez, she did have a job to do, you know!_

She said that, but she’d been the one to stop and humor their gaming conversations for near ten minutes.

“The local arcade was having an _awesome_ sale, and you wouldn’t leave the shop! The hell’s up with you lately, Yug’? You got a girl we don’t know about?” 

“Why would Yugi keep a girlfriend secret? – You’d tell us if you were dating, wouldn’t you, Yugi? Oh! Is it actually a girl?!”

“W-wait, wait, _is_ it a girl? Was I right?!”

“Joey, Tea, please--! I’m not seeing anyone!” Yugi winced to himself, setting his burger down. “Well…”

“Well, what?! C’mon, spill!”

Yugi waffled, which prompted Tea to swing in to his rescue. 

“Yugi doesn’t have to tell us anything…” He shot her a grateful look, opening his mouth to explain what was really going on without the romantic connotation, when—“If he doesn’t, though, your usual fry portions may be cut in half for the next week.”

_Never mind. Tea was just as bad._

“Guys!” Yugi called over the resulting din of protestation from an outraged Joey and Tristan, _who hadn’t even been involved, what the hell, Tea?! You’re punishing the innocent!_ “It’s not a girl! It’s only… It’s just… You remember the kid who’d ordered Duel Monster cards to be delivered way out of town?”

That, at least, got Joey’s attention.

“The crazy rich people?”

“His name’s Mokuba Kaiba. His brother is Seto Kaiba.”

“Seto Kaiba… Wasn’t he the kid in our class? The one who always sat in the back and showed up maybe two times a week?”

“I don’t remember him.”

“That’s because _you_ were only showing up twice a week, Joey.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

“Kaiba—now why is that--? _Ah!_ ” Tea’s eyes lit up. “That’s the massive technological company based in the downtown. Its headquarters is _huge!_ You can see it from any of Domino City’s malls. I think they’re even international.” 

Yugi gaped. International? Really, with the state of the brothers’ mansion, he shouldn’t be so surprised. “Wait, really?”

Tea nodded. “You must be meeting with the CEO’s kids. That’s pretty cool.”

“They’re pretty…” He wanted to say _normal_ , but his mind only supplied _weird._ In the end, he settled with: “… Interesting.”

“I’d bet.”

Joey cleared his throat. “So, uh, Yug’. When are you gonna invite us over to their kicking pad? You said they live in a mansion, right—do they have a pool, too? Or a Jacuzzi? Say, have you been holding out on us?!”

“Joey, don’t be weird!”

“Actually,” reaching back to scratch sheepishly at his neck, smile wobbly, “I’ve only been there to play Duel Monsters, so I haven’t seen much of the house. I’ve been there at least five times now, though. That sounds kind of strange, doesn’t it?”

Tristan guffawed, slipping a bit of burger to his daemon under the table. “No weirder than what we usually end up dealing with.”

“Way _cooler_ , I’d say. You’re hanging out with some rich guy’s kids! You could learn some trade secrets! Work them from the inside out, like the movies! Though I’ve got no idea what you’d do with a technological company.”

“ _More_ importantly,” cut in Tea, though she was grinning, “What brought them to the Kame Game Shop? Was it your King of Games title?”

“No… They’d called before Pegasus’s tournament.” Eyebrows drawing together, Yugi could only shrug. “I don’t really know why they started or why they keep calling. There must be game shops closer to their house.”

Joey, Tristan and Tea all frowned, the unanswered question lapsing their group into temporary silence.

Finally, Tristan broke it with a glance up to the ful blond in their mix. “Speaking of rich people, how’s your sister doing, Joey?”

All the hair-brained schemes talk of the Kaiba brothers started faded from Joey’s face. A small, private smile spread in its place, the boisterous boy almost flushing. “Oh, Serenity? She’s doing real good… The surgery was a success. The docs say she should be able to differentiate shadows soon – she’s just got to let the drugs work their magic.”

“That’s great to hear.”

“Yeah! Congratulations, Joey!”

“ _And_ , speaking of people who are missing a lot lately…” Tea hummed, balancing her tray on her hip. “Have you guys seen Bakura around? I swear he doesn’t even show up to class these days.”

Spoken around a mouthful of fries, Tristan shrugged. “Eh, he’s always done his own thing. But you’re right, he’s basically dropped off the radar.”

“Aw, Tristan, swallow before you talk! I can see all the gross bits in your mouth.”

“Eh--?! _Sorry_ , Joey, didn’t know you were so squeamish!”

“I’m not! You’re just extra nasty.” 

Yugi snickered and Tea giggled. The conversation moved smoothly on to the appearance of the local arcade’s new game: some player-versus-computer test run of a strategy-based ‘Dungeon Dice Monster’ game.

It did make Yugi wonder about just how much of a routine visiting the Kaiba brothers had become, though. 

“You know,” Yugi said one afternoon on his sixth visit, right before they began. He felt more than saw his other self hovering over his shoulder, the red-purple eyes locked on him. Mokuba’s attention was the same. He assumed Seto paid attention, too, though he never would have sworn on knowing Seto's emotional state. “Why don’t you two make your own decks? Then you wouldn’t have to keep buying them, and…”

“No.” Mokuba’s face paled considerably, Yugi noticed with a spot of confusion. He kept stealing glances at his brother, who hadn’t moved. “This is best. We can’t—I mean, the cards, you—um-“

“Who else would we duel?”

Yugi, Izumi and the Spirit all stared at Seto, not actually expecting him to speak. Not looking up from the random assortment of cards, the teen added, “With how much we meet, using the same deck would be tiresome.”

Slowly, Yugi nodded, and decided to let it lie. He supposed he missed his own deck more than anything. The Spirit agreed, he knew, on top of his own opinion on the potential magnificence of a deck crafted over time by a duelist like Seto.

“Jeez,” sighed Izumi after they were back on their bike and heading home, “I thought Mokuba was going to have a heart attack. Then he looked like his birthday came early… Do those two never talk except when we're around, or something?”

\---

Late one night, just as Yugi teetered on the cusp of sleep, Izumi curled under his chin and everything in the world feeling right, the Spirit spoke.

_The boy has a lot of darkness in him._

“Mm?” Sleepily, eyes barely slit open. “Who? Seto?”

 _No._ With the authority of a royal decree, though the effect was wasted on a rapidly fading Yugi. _The younger one. The older one…_

Though he caught the last part, he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. It was just as well: lined in sobering realization, the words told nothing close to a happy story.

_… Feels empty._


	4. Windows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strings tighten between those struggling to find their way - and more, the ball begins to roll.
> 
> Inspired from the question asked by kaibacorpintern @ tumblr: “What if Seto hadn’t beaten Gozaburo?” -- and all of the ideas that followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, everyone! I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

_Maybe I’m wrong._ His other self said on the way to the Kaiba mansion.

The day wasn’t sunny: the sky a foreboding grey, wind intermittently picking up to swirl stray leaves and papers at the street’s edges, Yugi already felt a few rain droplets peppering his back. He’d packed his umbrella and rain coat in case it started down-pouring, but he kept his fingers crossed that it _wouldn’t._ Biking in the rain was never a pleasant experience. The water got all over your pants no matter what.

“Huh?” Distracted, the words slipped out. Shaking off a flash of déjà vu, “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t say anythi--” Began Izumi, then stopped. “Oh. **Him.** Nevermind.”

After a pause (that felt quite apologetic), _It could be nothing._ Another pause. _It’s most likely nothing._

Yugi felt his mouth tip downward at the edges. “We’re partners in this. You can say what’s on your mind, even if you aren’t positive.”

 _I’m not usually wrong._ Again, the ominous silence. Out of necessity, they respected as much of each other’s privacy as possible. But here – he could feel how much the Spirit wanted to say it. _But I feel as if we’re missing something important. That something very wrong has happened._

Yugi thought on that. 

Lowering his voice even though no one was around to hear them, “With the brothers?”

The Spirit’s tone dropped as well.

_Yes._

Scant information though Tea’s words had provided, they—or, well, _Yugi_ , while the puzzle’s occupant remained eerily silent-- researched as much as possible into the KaibaCorp’s upper management. There hadn’t been much to find. Of what was relevant, only:

One, Gozaburo Kaiba adopted two boys, Mokuba and Seto, six years prior in a show of charity to a local orphanage as well as to groom a future heir for his company. Seto turned out to be a child prodigy.

Two, the boys initially attended public school, but had been withdrawn for private tutoring within the last year. As far as anyone could tell, the reason for the withdrawal was when the eldest son fell grievously ill and needed to be kept from a less stressful environment. It didn’t make sense to send the younger away when a perfectly fine home schooling system was accessible.

Three (from a conspiracy sites, their report one screw short of being fully believable), though technically an electronics company specializing in computers, the company frequently supplied international militaries their weaponry.

In truth, it left Yugi with more questions than answers. He hadn’t ever heard or seen anything about an illness; what was it, for how long, and was it why Seto never seemed to leave his room? What had happened before Gozaburo adopted them? What was Gozaburo like? Why did Mokuba never once mention his adopted father? How could a sixteen year old be expected to learn to take over a company? Most people Yugi knew weren’t sure if they would apply for university. 

If it was something in the family, the heir didn’t always get a choice—but if Seto didn’t want to, Yugi believed, he wouldn’t. It was just a feeling he had about the teen.

The same site that claimed KaibaCorp supplied weapons also detailed an extensive timeline of what they titled _Kaiba the Second’s Reign of Terror_ , where Seto had supposedly ravaged the stock market and local Domino City businesses over eight months. Thinking of the quiet, apathetic teen with his quiet, apathetic daemon, who dueled as if from far away, Yugi couldn’t believe it. He had a sharp tongue when he _did_ speak, but that didn’t mean he had the gall to extort illegal factions for his own gain.

What _gain_ would Seto even have? He didn’t seem to enjoy anything aside from maybe, _maybe_ , when he allowed his arm to be twisted into it, dueling.

There were a few other comments made about Gozaburo, Seto and even Mokuba’s personalities, but those ranged from Mokuba being a heavy drinker to Gozaburo having five mistresses at once. That was when Yugi closed the computer and called it a night.

“Something happened.” Yugi bit his lower lip, hand tightening and loosening around his bike’s handles. He murmured thanks when Izumi curled closer to his cheek, resting her head on top of his, her thin arms looped around him – she might not understand what exactly he was talking about, but she didn’t have to. She was there for him, as always. 

As the Spirit was beginning to be, his attention a heavy presence in the back of Yugi’s mind. Brows furrowing, Yugi continued. 

“The illness that took them out of school, the silence in their home… I think you’re right, other me. Something’s missing.”

From below his chin: “And we’re going to find out what?”

A small, small smile.

“At this point, we’re friends. So, yeah, of course we will.”

Izumi hummed assent; where the spirit lingered, approval radiated. 

Yugi’s determination solidified, but he couldn’t help wondering what they might be getting themselves into. 

\---

Rain fell soft against the window. The crow daemon, usually so still, preened on its perch under the grey sky’s dim light. Yugi noticed only because it was Seto’s turn and the other him had full control of their body, and for all the duel was interesting, it was the third match in two hours and, well—

_Are we boring you?_

The voice came unbidden and unusually amused.

Yugi mentally floundered, waving incorporeal hands where he pretended to sit on the couch. _Eh--! No, no. You’re just fine!_

The responding hum vibrated warm across their connection, as if the Spirit wasn’t stock-still in Yugi’s physical body. _After this match, we’ll pause._

Stealing a peek across the coffee table, Yugi caught sight of a droopy-eyed Mokuba, the boy occasionally listing forward before reeling himself upright. His daemon, a slender line of fur in the shape of a kind of weasel, sprawled across his lap, its eyes keen on the match even as its human fell asleep. Yugi stifled an entertained grin before remembering no one could see him. Apparently, the rain’s patter softened everyone’s mood.

_Alright. Think they have any good snacks?_

A Battleox appeared in attack position on the makeshift field. Yugi felt the Spirit’s thoughts be pulled away even as he answered, _Possibly,_ and sat forward with elbows on his knees.

The end of the match came fifteen minutes later, the Spirit winning once again by a margin that somehow grew narrower since the match before. 

The elder Kaiba brother leaned back with his arms crossed, his eyes glued on the table. It was a break from the routine – no immediate nod and casual dismissal. Naturally, it grabbed the Spirit’s attention immediately. 

“Again?”

That was Seto. Another break in the pattern. For one reason or another, it didn’t feel as startling as Yugi thought it should’ve. That would be another feeling they all shared - Mokuba yawned and stretched his arms over his head to their side, which jostled his daemon enough to receive a very quiet grumble of complaint. Yugi could feel the Spirit’s yearning to accept the offer, stopped by a hairbreadth’s worth of restraint as his thoughts turned to the incorporeal figure beside him. He was about to say it was fine, they could go another round, but before he could even finish sending the thought to his other self, he replied, “Perhaps after a break?”

He hadn’t given up on occasionally prodding the teen to discuss the fight, but now wasn’t the time.

For a second, Yugi honestly thought Seto would _object._ But then the small pinch between the teen’s eyebrows smoothed into nothing, and he nodded. 

It made Yugi think Izumi would pipe up with a _oh, thank goodness_ , but she didn’t. He certainly thought it.

“I could get some tea.” Mokuba offered, sounding only half-awake. As if breaking a spell, Seto moved back to his laptop, and Yugi found himself – quite abruptly – deposited back into his body. He blinked with eyes that felt no different, shifting where he sat just to test out feeling again, sending out a mental tendril long enough to note the Spirit’s retreat into the Millennium puzzle. Even without receiving an answer, the younger brother stood, his daemon tumbling gently to the chair.

“Are there any chips?” 

The voice came from his side, as familiar as his own. Habit in the Kaiba mansion where no one else’s daemon spoke dictated the question was to him, but then Izumi climbed to the edge of his knee and sat on her haunches, body pointedly turned toward the weasel daemon on the chair opposite.

Mokuba frowned lightly, fingers curled into the hem of his shirt. After a beat, he started toward the door; his daemon rose to follow.

Izumi, ever determined, hopped around Yugi in line with their movements.

“Wait, wait. Hold on.” Mokuba’s daemon glanced back, but—“I think we’ve waited a lot long than we should’ve, and that’s on me. So, hey – my name is Izumi. It’s nice to meet you.”

The daemon shifted into a long-eared dog while she spoke, its eyes as droopy as its skin. Its tail curled between its legs, and it remained silent.

Just as Yugi thought the good atmosphere wasted, mentally berating himself and Izumi, Mokuba paused by the door, looked back, and the daemon, it-- _she_ \-- spoke, one paw frozen mid-step.

“Hi.” _Wow_ , came the surprise. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Mokuba was hardly old. _She sounds so young._ “I’m Naomi.”

Izumi, with her human-like features, smiled with the barest hint of gleaming white. It was the look she got when she succeeded on something big.

By the window, the crow stretched a wing and, after Mokuba left to fetch the food, turned on its perch, its black eyes set with something close to interest on the duo left behind.

\---

“It isn’t rudeness. It’s about manners.”

“Huh?” The reply startled out of Yugi, but he didn’t think he could be blamed. It was just—Seto Kaiba was making small talk, and without a duel to spur it on! 

It never helped conversations to stare, he’d learned, so he tried not to. It didn’t matter: blue eyes remained glued to his laptop screen. Even more surprising, he continued speaking.

Tone level, lined in some emotion Yugi couldn’t fully identify: “Less childish.”

Novel as it all was, he had to be honest in that he wasn’t following a lick. “Er… What is?”

“Daemons not speaking.” _What?_ “In your small world, it may be the norm for daemons to chat with one another. But they spill private details without even thinking, no matter how aware they are; it’s less embarrassing for all parties involved if they don’t open their mouths.”

Yugi shared a side-glance with Izumi, who looked as doubtful as he felt. Across the way, Seto’s fingers paused on the keyboard. When Yugi looked up, a calm gaze held his.

“Consider it a business tip.”

Was it a gesture of good will? It felt like it was supposed to be.

“O…kay.” 

\---

Mokuba came back armed with three cups of steaming tea and an apologetic, “Sorry, we don’t have any chips,” which was waved away with a smile and thank-you for the tea. Naomi, once again some breed of weasel, eyed Izumi like a man afraid of heights eyed a creaking tower; Izumi, having none of it, walked over as the humans chatted to talk more one-on-one.

Judging by the weasel’s excited wiggling by the third minute, Yugi chalked the move up to another Izumi success.

Noticing Mokuba wouldn’t stop stealing glances at the pair like he did at his older brother when he thought Seto wasn’t looking, Yugi’s efforts increased to make the conversation gripping.

It wasn’t so hard. A comment was made on his biking to the mansion every day – he replied that no, it wasn’t an issue, though the area he lived in was experiencing a rise in crime – what, really? What’s happening? – an odd gang had appeared seemingly from nowhere; they didn’t act in any discernably coordinated way, though they were known for their purple cloaks.

“Let me get this straight,” Mokuba half-laughed, obviously disbelieving, “They’re a bunch of thugs in big purple cloaks? Isn’t it easy to spot them coming?”

“Not _all_ of them wear the cloaks,” Yugi defended, his smile more strained. While the news hadn’t picked up on the gang much, more than a few stories circulated around the game arcades that the cloaked figures would strike fast and leave a person hurting. Even stranger: word on the street was they specifically sought Duel Monsters players, taking rare cards from those they attacked. Apparently they also dueled, but that sounded plainly ridiculous. “Just enough to be recognizable. It’s more about the fact nothing else binds them together, I think.”

Nose scrunched up, Mokuba tapped his finger against his cup’s edge. “Why aren’t the police taking care of it?”

“I don’t think many cases have been reported… A lot of the people targeted are younger, or so the stories go.” Looking down into the green of his own tea, he couldn’t help pressing his knees together and drawing in his shoulders. “And even more of the attacks are about Duel Monsters. They say they’ll take your rare cards. It sounds silly, doesn’t it? So people are worried the police will laugh at them.”

The boy had a firey response for that. “They’re being stupid! If someone took my cards that I worked so hard to gather, I’d call the cops immediately.”

Thinking on if someone tried to take his Dark Magician--- well. He didn’t know if he’d call the _police_ , but he certainly wouldn’t give up trying to get the card back. 

Given how often such minor scuffles happened on school grounds alone and nothing came of it, he wasn’t surprised people didn’t go to the authorities. In truth, Mokuba’s proposal struck him as odder.

The crow on the perch resumed preening.

“They’re only cards.” Came the level comment from across the way, Seto back at work on his laptop, his tea untouched. “If that was all a mugger wanted, it would be smartest to hand them over and escape a beating.”

“Seto, you can’t rea--”

Mokuba bit off the exclamation with visible difficulty. Blue eyes flicked up to settle on the boy, but before anyone could imagine he would reply, they turned back to the screen.

In the corner of his eye, Yugi saw the weasel daemon detach herself abruptly from Izumi to clamber up to the boy’s side. Naomi hesitated in pressing close, but after a slightly confused Izumi swung up to Yugi’s shoulder, the weasel burrowed next to the boy’s leg.

“… Whoever they are and wherever they came from, I don’t imagine they’ll hang around Domino City forever.” Yugi continued after a pause, raising a hand to let Izumi’s tail curl around his wrist. “And anyway, you’re right. The purple cloaks are a dead give-away.”

Lips kept pressed tight, Mokuba gave a tight nod. Yugi floundered for a way to recover the easy banter, his smile strained.

They could duel again– 

“Oh, geez,” Yugi’s eyes widened on checking his watch, the black hands reading loud and clear that he’d very much lost track of time, and _he was technically working._ “I’ll have to say the rain kept me back. It wouldn’t have been busy back at the shop anyway, given the weather, but…”

“You have to go?” Mokuba sounded oddly tentative. Looking up, even Seto had paused on typing (or was he just naturally pausing?) Yugi really didn’t want to say yes.

“I mean! One more duel wouldn’t hurt. I’m already late, and I’ll already be soaked.”

“We put your bike in the garage – it’ll be dry…”

“Thanks for that, really. Um. One more duel. How about it?”

Naomi remained silent, but at least she didn’t disappear into Mokuba’s hair or pocket like she normally did. There was a moment when all eyes turned on Seto.

The teen nodded after a five second pause, setting his laptop to the side to take up his deck.

\---

“Hi.” 

While the humans talked, Izumi clambered over to the bird’s perch and craned her neck to peer upward. The crow didn’t deign to look down.

She waited.

The crow waited.

She crossed her arms, took a sniff.

The crow waited.

She waited.

The crow shifted an infinitesimal amount. Izumi grinned.

“It was about time we formally introduced ourselves. My name’s Izumi.” The crow, as Izumi expected, stayed silent. She didn’t let it bother her. “It’s nice to meet you. Let’s talk again later.”

\---

 _Other me?_ Yugi mentally called out, his smile smoothing out. _It’s time to duel._

“You know,” he said aloud as he took up his makeshift deck, shuffling it with half a mind as the Spirit’s warm presence touched against his thoughts in greeting, “You could come over to my place sometime, if you wanted. It isn’t that far. I’m free most of the time; my grandpa runs the shop more than me.”

The other two didn’t _freeze_ , but Mokuba was far less gifted in hiding his emotions as compared to his brother, and Yugi was getting better at reading the both of them: the boy worried at his lip, fingers curling together, hesitance radiating off of him. When Seto didn’t say anything, however, the hesitance slowly shifted to hopefulness.

For a reason he would examine later, the look twisted something awful in Yugi’s chest.

“Yeah. Maybe.” The boy smiled, a small, private quirk at the edges of his mouth. “We’ll keep in contact.”

He couldn’t keep back a laugh at that, the tight feeling in his chest squeezing once more before dissipating. “I’d hope so.” 

Rather than words, Seto set his deck to the side and drew his cards. It spoke loud enough: still grinning, Yugi set down his own, sending out a quick _your turn!_ to the Spirit waiting in the wings. 

Just as he felt the familiar sense of being displaced, the Spirit’s desire for a challenge strong as the tide, a door slammed in the distance. Barely discernable words followed the noise, two higher pitched voices for one deep rumble.

All at once: everything changed.

He heard Mokuba’s breath catch. He saw Mokuba jolt to his feet, Naomi flashing lightning-quick between smaller and smaller shapes before disappearing into the boy’s black mane. He felt the Spirit’s surprise as Seto locked up so tense Yugi marveled he had ever relaxed. The crow daemon cawed, a gurgling, ugly sound. Blue eyes snapped to Mokuba, the look a serrated blade, and Mokuba—

“I was careful!”

\-- **pleaded** , practically tripping on his own feet as he scrambled toward the bedroom door. Yugi spun to watch him, asking only the person who couldn’t answer, _What? What’s going on?_

The Spirit kept his eyes on the eldest, Yugi’s mouth a thin frown.

Possessiveness flared from his other self’s mind. Yugi didn’t have to try to take control back to know he wouldn’t be allowed.

“It must be the rain, that canceled the—I, I was so careful! Big brother, you have to believe me!” 

The teen in question rose with sharp, jagged motions, unfolding to a considerable height and putting his long stride to use in reaching the window. He looked to walk more than run, but for all Yugi knew, he moved so fast he could have transported. Dropping to his knees, he worked the windows open in the time it took Mokuba to slip out of the door. By the couch, the other him stood, thoughts whirling.

The windows worked open, rain poured in - at some point during their duels, the shower had grown into a storm.

Clothes darkened under the spray, the brown head remained bowed over the sill. Yugi really couldn’t have said what was happening, but the Spirit picked up enough to follow, his gait slow. Not hesitant, not surprised-- but expectant. In the hallway growing ever closer, a younger voice joined the others.

On its perch, the crow cawed its jarring call once more; a surreal feeling passed over Yugi, a _is it even a daemon?_ snapping in panic through his mind.

 _Keep calm, Yugi._

“Bring the cards.” 

Halting, the Spirit’s frown deepened. “What for?” 

It was the wrong thing to say. Seto shot a glare over his shoulder—and it wasn’t strong, it wasn’t overt, the edges of his mouth tightened and eyebrows drawn down, but on a face so often coached into expressionlessness, it read with five times the viciousness.

“Never mind the cards. Get out. Leave your bike and get off the grounds.”

Leave his bike? – The Spirit raised his chin, eyes narrowed. It was the look of a man prepared to dig in his heels if not answered, which – given the way Mokuba scrambled – wasn’t something Yugi thought the Kaiba brothers had time for. “Is my visiting a secret?” 

“ _Go._ There’s an open gate by the rose bushes in the back garden. It’ll take you to the street.” 

“From whom, Kaiba?”

_Other me, maybe we should--_

Head bowed, Seto bit out the words to the floor:

“ **Get out**.”

In the hallway, Mokuba’s voice fell silent. The deeper, masculine drawl continued. 

_\- Don’t argue! We should go!_

Though he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had to walk home without his bike—

The Spirit felt ready to argue further, but another look at the teen’s rigid posture and dripping hair – another prod from Yugi, who put his incorporeal form to use in gesturing at their backpack - and his mouth twisted into a full scowl. Back straight, he backpedaled for the pack, snatching it and grudgingly striding for the window. Seto moved out of their way – looking back, the teen’s face had fallen back into a perfectly blank slate. Not even the bangs sticking to his forehead made a difference in impression: cold and still, nothing could move him.

Swinging his body through the window, Yugi diving through out of instinct, and tumbling into the loose earth below, the window slammed shut two feet above their heads. 

Curiousity burned low and hot in the other’s gut, pulsing over Yugi in waves. Hovering behind him, the Spirit’s inner battle to rise and look back in was a visible struggle. 

Desperate, the brothers’ panic alive in his mind, Yugi cut in before the Spirit could try prying open the window again. _What—no, other me, we have to go. What if us getting caught gets them in trouble?_ The Spirit didn’t budge – anger simmered under the curiousity, slow and righteous. _We’re way too noticeable even in the dim light. Seto’s right, we’ll have to leave behind my bike._

The rain drowned out most of the sounds within the house. Staring up at the lit window, Yugi holding breath he didn’t need to draw – 

The Spirit jerked back as if burned. From deep within, it hit to his pride to walk away, every step punctuated by an intense feeling of _this is wrong_. 

Following close, rain droplets falling through him with hardly a ripple, Yugi took a chance to glance back for himself. Through the window, he spotted the tall, lanky silhouette of Seto Kaiba, partially obscuring the view of a tall, broad-shouldered man in a business suit glaring down at what had to be the coffee table. 

But then they entered the gardens and had to squint through the water to find the gate, and a more immediate concern appeared: how _were_ they going to get home in time?

\---

It felt as if someone followed them out of the rich part of town to the next district’s train station, but no matter how hard he, Izumi or the invisible Spirit of the Millennium puzzle looked, they couldn’t see anyone.

Chalking it up to paranoia from the day’s events, Yugi set his head down and continued trudging through puddle after puddle.

At least the train station wasn’t more than a thirty minute walk away, and he had his coat…

“Yug’! You’re soaking wet!”

Weary to the bone, shoes flooded, fingers wrinkled as prunes, Yugi nearly tripped over his own two feet getting back into the shop. The clock on the wall ticked at a merry 7 o’clock, two and a half hours after he originally left. Izumi hopped to the top of a shelf and collapsed in a heap of wet fur, her body deflating with a heavy sigh.

Dani scrambled over to call up a, “Whoa, you alright?” with Shelby on her tail, just as Tristan and Joey dodged around glass figurine shelves to take Yugi by the shoulders. 

Trying to dissuade the concern to little avail, he let his friends pull him to a chair, sitting down gratefully, every bone feeling relieved. 

Face twisted in worry, his grandpa stepped around the counter to offer a towel and question. “Where have you been, Yugi? Was it that Kaiba boy again?”

Not one to lie even if he hadn’t been so tired, Yugi nodded, quietly accepting the towel to begin drying off his hair. “Thanks, grandpa. It… was strange. I would’ve been home earlier, but a problem came up, and I had to--” wait, no, he wasn’t explaining it right, “—I had to leave suddenly, and I couldn’t get to my bike--”

Ugh, sitting in a dry space with damp clothing was _so much worse._

Joey was having none of it. “He made you walk home? Isn’t this kid filthy rich? He must have a car!” 

“He does, but…” 

“But what?!”

“They’re our age, aren’t they? They wouldn’t be able to drive.” This, from Tristan.

“They’ve gotta have butlers who can drive!”

“Honestly, Joey--”

Grandpa Mutou cleared his throat, speaking through the other two. “I’m glad you arrived home safely, what with what’s been happening to duelists across the city.”

Eyes lowering, Yugi’s hand gripped his wrist. “I’m sorry for making you worry, grandpa. And for being so late. I should’ve called, but I…”

His elder waved his hand, dismissing the apology with much greater ease than Yugi had his friend’s concern. “You said there was a problem for the Kaiba boys? Is everything alright?”

The dreaded question. The dreaded question, which Yugi would really have liked to know the answer to. 

Instead he had to say: “I don’t know.” 

_That_ brought confusion back to his grandpa’s face. Hastily continuing, Yugi looked back up, hoping his sincerity came through. “I think their adopted father returned home—he looked like the pictures of Gozaburo Kaiba, anyway—and the brothers were adamant that he couldn’t see me. I had to sneak out the back.” 

“Which is why you couldn’t get the bike…” Joey, eyebrows furrowed, spoke as one on the road to realizing something just barely out of reach. “… Their adopted father, huh? It’s still shitty they made you walk home in the storm.”

Yugi shrugged one shoulder, not near as angry as he maybe should’ve been. It hadn’t been the brothers’ intention to send him walking home in the rain. The terror in Mokuba’s voice as he ran for the door – the crow daemon’s cry and Seto’s complete shutdown of his own emotions – no… How could he blame them?

Some of Joey’s fire seemed to dissipate, too. Altogether, it allowed them a moment of silence. Yugi lifted an arm to pull at his wet sleeve, shivering as his clothes’ chill began to really register.

Before he went to change, though, there was something in the present to address. 

Peering up at his two friends, thinking on how they knew he had to watch the shop that day. “What are you two doing here, anyway?”

Tristan and Joey shared a look. Tristan spoke.

“We were looking for you to share some news, actually. There’s this new game shop in town - we were just checking it out when we overheard the owner talking about _this_ shop. He sounded real snobby… Apparently he’s got a major grudge against you, Yug’.”

“Against me?” What in the--? “Why?”

“Dunno.” Now it was Joey’s turn to shrug, his hands raised palm-out. “But we didn’t like the way he was talking. You might wanna keep an eye out. – Oh, and, uh, gramps…”

Joey turned sheepish; grandpa sighed, his thumbs hooking into his pockets. By the shop’s register, his old, fat cat daemon opened one cloudy eye, her tail flicking. “His shop’s quite popular with you kids, isn’t it?”

Having the grace to not ramble about the new games’ novelty, the blond nodded. 

Grandpa Mutou _hmm_ ed, shut his eyes and fell quiet. After a beat passed, he opened his eyes and gave them all a slight smile.

“Well! I’m glad you’re home safe. Why don’t you go get some dry clothes and then take the rest of the night off, since all three of you are already here?” Yugi tried to protest, but his grandpa wouldn’t hear any of it. The three were ushered out of the main shop soon after, their daemons scampering after them. Yugi would swear up and down he caught his grandpa mumbling, “We’ll see how popular he is when the novelty wears out! I’ve owned a game shop longer than he’s been alive!”

Grandpa could always get a little impassioned.

The issue of the brothers remained on his mind, the events turning over and over in a useless, repetitive cycle. Even before everything had gone south, Mokuba's hopefulness over meeting up for a simple lunch... It stuck to him as much as the panic to follow. He must have been terribly distracted, but Joey and Tristan stuck by him anyway, going over the new dueling news with an easy air. It helped to have their company – he couldn’t ever have said how grateful he was for them.

Even though it was late and he felt achy from the long trip in the rain, they convinced him to go out for an evening burger. Sitting in the familiar booth with a warm stomach, the wild escape from the Kaiba mansion seemed farther away than ever.

The Spirit remained silent in his puzzle, but—in truth—Yugi had expected that. He often took time alone to process the more difficult problems they faced.

Piece by piece, he’d figure out what made the Kaiba brothers act like they did. In the same way, he was sure he’d figure out more about the Spirit.


	5. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duke Devlin, fevers, and visions of what might be. Unfortunately for all involved, there's only so much anyone knows at one time.
> 
> Inspired from the question asked by kaibacorpintern @ tumblr: “What if Seto hadn’t beaten Gozaburo?” -- and all of the ideas that followed.

“You didn’t have to provoke him so much, Joey!”

“ _Eerrghh--_ but I was right! He’s a complete asshole! He’s just also a decently skilled asshole!”

“Keep your voice down, will ya? You’re already attracting a lot of attention and we haven’t even left the arena… -- Yugi, hey, you holding up?”

True to the flush across his cheeks and red of his nose, Yugi answered with a heavy fit of coughing. Tea, to his side, placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, though he couldn’t help notice (or blame her) she kept him at an arm’s length. Tristan, who dodged around Joey’s bulky, costumed form to peer at him, gave him a _yikes_ look. To be fair, he must’ve sounded awful.

His eyes felt itchy when he blinked, but after the coughing subsided and he cleared his scratchy throat, he did his best to straighten his shoulders and turn to the victor who had condemned his friend to the dog outfit.

His trip two days previous might have sparked off a sickness that he should’ve weathered at home in a comfortable bed, but it didn’t mean he had to let Duke Devlin humiliate Joey.

Hand on his puzzle, the presence that had been so quiet (- _you’re sick?_ Yeah. _It feels…_ Don’t worry, other me, I’ll be better in no time -) burned as a spark igniting a forest fire, flooding over him in a warm wave. It dulled the aching in his eyes and joints; unbidden, he smiled, his eyes falling briefly. The world around him became like background noise.

_Are you sure you want to duel?_

The answer, immediate and visceral: _Yes. Joey lost fairly, but Duke has overstepped his bounds as a victor._

_My body--_

_Is it not as fine as you thought?_ Tinged in worry. Though no longer unfamiliar, the sentiment comforted Yugi all the same.

He had to be honest. _It’s… not the best._ The Spirit fell silent. _I’m standing and talking with you, and—everyone else. That’s something._

 _I’m sure it’ll be fine. I can duel._ A beat. _And you can rest._

It shouldn’t have sounded as good as it did. He should’ve dug in his heels. He could’ve dueled Duke, though—he wasn’t sure he could win.

 _You could._ Came the quiet reply from beyond his own mind, but the other’s disdain for Duke burned hot enough to be mistaken for a fever, and dredging up the last of his energy, he resolved to pass control to the Spirit.

He let go of his body and sunk into the darkness of sleep in a way he hadn’t since before Duelist Kingdom. The Spirit would take care of Duke, and—okay—the break from his body’s general ache-y soreness was little more than a happy bonus.

Lightly amused affection chased him into his soul room. He barely noticed.

He felt a _little_ bad when the amusement turned into bemusement once the Spirit settled fully into his sick body. But then, he reasoned, the Spirit could consider it a learning experience! Yeah. He’d be fine.

“Duke Devlin, you’ve gone too far. Such a punishment… deserved… due…”

Drifting to the echo of his other self's voice (which seemed as strong and sure as ever - he knew he'd be fine -), unawareness enveloped him. He welcomed it gladly.

\---

The illness had started as a sore throat, and evolved rapidly into every annoying symptom a cold could gather.

He’d been one degree on the thermometer away from skipping school, though he was sure he’d hit the point where he should have gone home somewhere in the second period. Rather than return home, however, he had went to watch an enraged Joey duel against Duke. They had used Duke’s Dice Monster sets, which Joey had been awfully unfamiliar and unhappy with - a potent combination to further stoke Joey’s anger, it wasn’t entirely shocking when the blond lost. Duke’s addition to his terms for the loser, however, had been; the teen’s daemon, a gorgeous green moth, nearly met its end by way of Dani’s snapping jaws on Joey’s suiting up.

A casually dressed version of the guard who squinted at him every time he arrived at the Kaiba mansion had delivered his bike to the Kame Game shop in the early hours of the day after his escape through Seto’s window. The man hadn’t said much of anything, his lizard daemon a narrow-eyed, unhappy creature on his shoulder—after ensuring the bike was back in its owner’s possession, he had left with barely a good-bye. Of the Kaiba brothers themselves, there came no word. Yugi wanted to call them, but the moment he picked up the phone to dial was the exact moment he realized he’d never gotten their number. Realization struck him that their meetings had always been couched in business -- it didn't seem to match up with the exchanges themselves.

But time went on, as it always did. School arrived. Challenges between duelists arose. School passed. Joey had to wear a dog suit in front of Duke's cheerleaders.

Time went on.

\---

_Yugi? Yugi._

His head was pounding…

_Yugi. I’m sorry, but you must wake up._

His whole body felt on fire, one piece twice as sore to move as the previous. For a brief moment, his thoughts scrambled to untangle what could have caused the cotton to coat his throat and mouth, but then lethargy crashed back in and he tried his best to fall back asleep.

Was that the Spirit calling for him…? Surely he could take care of whatever problem there was. He’d yet to fail.

But he sounded almost distressed.

_Yugi!_

_Other me?_ Groggy, disorientated, he forced himself into consciousness. The room immediately struck him as too bright. _What’s wrong?_

Sounding from far away, Dani’s voice piped: “Hey! It’s Yugi!” 

Joey stopped dead, turning hard eyes on the prone form laying on the bed. After a beat, his head lowered and he snapped, “Dani, this’s no time for jokes.”

The pitbull jerked back, her ears laid flat, eyes widened. “But I’m not. He’s right there! Whole and complete!”

 _Your body. Our body._ The worry from before strengthened, nearly knocking Yugi back. Which, given they were both speaking in lightning-fast thoughts, was impressive. _The fever grew too strong, I fell after Duke’s defeat._

Oh, good, he had won. A hazy smile spread over Yugi’s face.

_Your friends carried us back, I don’t fully remember the trip, but now--_

“Dani, shush,” commanded Charles, craning his neck to glare as best a gazelle could at the white-furred dog. Dani whined, her paws shifting restlessly on the bed sheets. “You know better than to say that.”

“But--”

“ _Quiet._ ”

The conversation seemed surreal. Slowly, Yugi turned his attention toward the other occupants of the room. Upon further inspection, it turned out they were in his room: Tea sat by his desk, her eyes watery and arms wrapped around her daemon’s long neck; Joey paced in a tight circle; Tristan leaned against the door, his arms crossed and frown deep. The dog costume was nowhere to be seen, though Dani and Shelby sat next to his bed with their front paws up on the sheets.

_\-- They’re terrified. They’re talking about sudden death, and severed daemons, and—witches. And calling for an ambulance._

_What?!_

Yugi spun in a circle, eyes jumping from each of his friends. The tension across their shoulders – the fear heavy in the air – the occasional hitch of breath from Tea. His other self had his body laid out on the bed, eyes shut in feigned rest; he looked pale and drawn, and more than a little sweaty, but not _near death._ What could--? Severed daemons? But Izumi was right with him! He could feel her, their bond the same as always. 

The Spirit seemed at a loss. It would have been funny, and maybe it would be in retrospect, but at the moment, it only made matters worse.

Borderline helpless, which was never a tone Yugi wanted to hear from the Spirit again:

_I don’t know what to say._

_Let me take control!_

A finger jumped where his hands laid upon his chest. 

Yugi had the feeling he had to ask for control too often in too few days. Recovering some of his stubbornness, the other shot back: _Your body is in poor shape._

He was going to dig in his heels **now**? Seriously?

 _I’ve been sick before. It’s fine._ His thoughts fell apart, his mental bids for piecing together what could terrify his friends so falling short. Severed daemons—witches? The existence of witch magic was questionable, especially about their daemons’ ability to fly far from them—but honestly, what did witches and severed bonds have anything to do with Yugi or the Spirit? _Let me take control, I’ll talk with them!_ Izumi was—

\-- Izumi was—

Ice gripped his heart. His eyes flitted from Dani to Shelby to Charles and back again. He searched, spine snapping straight, the room’s corners, his shelves’ crevices, his desk top and- a quick duck- underneath the bed. Izumi was… 

He gripped his chest, the incorporeal touch not registering. The Spirit’s worry spiked. _Yugi?_

It didn’t make sense. He could feel the bond – everyone knew their bond, the join between body and soul, the anchor that kept two halves of a whole together – strong as ever. A severed daemon was supposed to be obvious to spot, though of course Yugi had never seen one: the human and daemon both listless husks, able to walk away from each other and so leave behind everything that made them who they were. No. He wasn’t severed. But the spider monkey’s figure was distinctly absent from the room.

If he’d had a stomach, it would have dropped out. It felt like it dropped out. Chilled to the bone, he sat hard on the bed’s edge—he plummeted through the bed, and would have kept falling if not for the Spirit’s _Yugi!_ and his own hasty recovery.

Get a grip, Mutou. It was fine! Just follow the bond, and you’ll find her--- except following the bond led him to where he hovered, and that didn’t make any sense at all, and was very unhelpful besides.

_… Where is she?_

Carefully, as though the Spirit thought him made of glass: _Where is who?_

_Izumi._

_Ah._ He could feel, he **felt** the moment realization struck the other. For the first time, he felt like shaking the Spirit - or yelling. Whichever made him share what he knew about his daemon. _You didn’t notice._

His other self would have to forgive the rising hysteria. _Notice what? My daemon missing?_

_I don’t believe she’s--_

_Then where is she?!_

_She’s within you_. Anyone else, and Yugi thought the Spirit would have snapped at him for the panicked tone. As it was, his other self only spoke-thought faster. _She’s always within you. I don’t have a daemon; it follows that when I’m in control, yours returns to you._

Daemons didn’t _return._

… Did they?

Pressing on, resolve soaking the mental words, _She and I appear to be similar-- we both act as your other halves. But she has no need to possess you – she_ is _you. With our only common link being you, she could never manifest for me._

He’d never heard of such a…

 _Did she always disappear?_ The question trembled in the air, even just between the two of them. His other self paused in his reply. The silence spoke louder than any answer.

By the door, Tristan scoffed, his expression darkening to match Joey’s. “Guys. We can’t keep standing around. If Izumi really is missing, we’ve got to… get Yugi to a hospital, or something.” 

Yugi clenched his fists. _Give me back control. Then she’ll come back._

_Your body--_

_We’re worrying them!_

Another pause. 

Joey stared down at him, his shoulders tightened with tension. “What’re the doctors gonna do, thou--”

Heat different from the Spirit’s righteousness greeted Yugi as he sunk back into control, the fever doubled from the morning and stuffing his head full of cotton. From no feeling to overwhelming soreness, Yugi fought to open his eyes.

“Guys?”

“—Yugi!”

“Oh, Yugi!”

“Izumi! You’re here!”

Being piled upon by Joey and Tristan both, it turned out, did not help with the feeling of slow death by overheating. 

“Guys- guys! Can’t- I can’t--” His protest seemed ineffectual, the other two too excited to back off, but Tea’s “Oi! Boys!” and grab at their collars gave him a few precious seconds of space.

To the bed’s side, Dani had Izumi pinned under one big paw, welcoming her back in the sloppiest way possible. The monkey’s protests, much like Yugi’s, went entirely unheeded: Shelby, her tail wagging a mile a minute, wouldn’t stop prancing in place, looking wholly ready to take Dani’s place the moment the spot opened up. Charles, stepping carefully around human and daemon, had a look of contentedness to him.

His bedroom over his grandfather’s shop wasn’t the smallest or largest, but crowded with four excited humans and four equally excited daemons, it felt like the most cramped room in the world. 

“Do you know what _happened?_ ” Joey demanded as they settled to hover around the bed, their daemons taking longer to calm. “Your other self took over, and Izumi—she disappeared!” 

This was where the Spirit’s words didn’t match up. Tentatively, he tried: “Hadn’t she always disappeared?”

“What’re you talking about? She never disappeared! She’d just gotten smaller, hadn’t she?” 

_That_ made no sense. His eyebrows pinched together, thoughts turning over through the haze in his mind. Smaller? Smaller… Why would—

Oh.

_Oh._

“Izumi’s settled.” That garnered a frown from all of his friends, though Tea’s surprise faded as he spoke. “She’s been settled since—since I completed the puzzle. She can’t shift, or get smaller, or… anything else.”

Joey, of course, had the first word. “But when your other self takes over--?” 

“But when his other self takes over, she’s not his daemon.” Tea filled in before Yugi. He nodded. “So she can’t be found. She… what does she do?”

“The other me thinks she returns to being a part of me.” 

“It’s _cold._ ” From the floor, hands pushing Dani’s face away long enough to speak, Izumi added her two cents. “I kept trying to tell you. It gets cold and dark, and there’s nothing but me, and I know you’re with me but I can’t see you. I can’t do anything when it happens. It’s horrible. It’s--”

 _It sounds like the Shadows. Before you, that’s all I remember,_ murmured the Spirit from within Yugi’s mind. Looking at his daemon, her words raw in their fear, Yugi’s hand clenched. He couldn't think of how to put the feeling constricting his chest into words-- with daemons, a person didn't always have to, but he felt like- he felt Izumi deserved this one.

A measly word, it didn't feel like enough.

“I’m sorry.”

Izumi choked off her reply as she twisted to reach him. Dani let her up without objection, all eyes following the black monkey as she scrambled up the bed to cling to Yugi’s front. Joey and Tristan moved obligingly to give the two space, averting their gazes along with Tea.

“I know the puzzle has to stay, I know the Spirit helps you, but I— I wish sometimes you’d just get rid of it.” Her voice low, her hands balled in his shirt. He had to bite down the impulse to tell her not to call the Spirit an ‘it’ – that wasn’t what she meant, it couldn’t be. Her next words could have been lost to a breeze. “ _I’m_ your other self. Aren’t I enough?”

Yugi’s heart seized. He hugged her back, eyes squeezing closed. “Of course you are. It isn’t you, Izumi. You’ve always been enough. It’s just… I…” 

“I know.” She sounded pitiful. More than anything, it made him want to cry. “I know.”

They stayed like that, Yugi sniffling and Izumi holding on tight.

“I think we should go.” Came Charles’ quiet voice. His friends agreed softly, filing out of the room with _feel better, Yugi_ and _see you tomorrow_ , far more subdued than he’d ever intended. 

The strength to call them back and put on a smile had deserted him – he let them go without trying.

\---

The fever broke late in the evening, his mother serving him warm tea with honey and ordering him to bed rest until the rest of his symptoms cleared up. 

The Spirit’s presence had vacated his mind entirely after his friends left, but he wasn’t willing to let the night end without a discussion. Fetching his deck, he flopped back on his bed, mentally calling for the other. He shuffled through his cards: the Celtic Guardian, the Dark Magician Girl, Multiply…

He manifested on the edge of Yugi’s desk, legs crossed, eyes – watchful. Wary.

Izumi lifted her head to look his way, snuggling closer to the boy’s side after confirming who it was.

_Can all daemons see you? I thought it was just Izumi._

The Spirit shook his head. _All of them can. And they can see you, too, when you’re in my place._

Yugi dragged a hand down his face, a laugh startled out of him.

His other self looked confused. _Yugi?_

_It's better late than never._ Feeling the other’s wariness increase, he added quickly, _I’m glad we know more about how we work - I wish we knew more._

A slow nod, the redder eyes unblinking.

 _But, other me?_ He curled his fingers around Izumi’s shoulder, the fur threading between his fingers. _I’m glad you’re here, too._

He knew enough to recognize the gratitude in the other’s smile, though the feeling that reached him through their link was a mix of affection and sadness.

_You’re too kind, partner._

\---

Miles away from a recovering teenager and his incorporeal companion, the final pieces of a new exhibit were set in place by men who cared little for their origins.

She walked the museum’s quiet halls as a _last check_ before the grand opening. Moonlight filled where the dimmed lights lacked, casting soft shadows upon ancient statues and stolen treasures. The ceiling high, the air still, she moved as if in a dream from doorway to doorway, her white robes curling around her sandaled feet. Her necklace weighed heavy around her throat.

Somewhere in the city, her brother moved his pawns into place. 

Somewhere in the city, the Pharaoh rested, unaware of the mechanisms carving his path.

Somewhere in the city…

Slipping her hand into the pouch to her side, her touch alighted upon the God she had been set to deliver. Around card and fingers, cool scales weaved; a forked tongue brushed her wrist. She took comfort from the gesture, insomuch as she dared.

Stopping in front of the carved slab that explained _just enough_ , she –

\-- found herself in a bright but cold room – _please, I want to_ \- with the High Priest’s reincarnation grasping a hysteric boy’s arm - _we never help anyone!_ \- to the point of pain – 

\- then, through the Shadows: a dim but hot room, the walls dark, dark, dark with blood, **W RE OUSE: ISTRIC 7** faded under a flickering light, the moon nowhere to be seen – a flash of gold – the familiar screech of the dying - her hands flying to cover her ears, eyes --

\-- opened to the overwhelming silence of the museum, the vision fading as swiftly as it had arrived. Scales coiled crushingly around her wrist, her fingertips burning where they pressed against the God card. For a vision to be so strong, so life-like - She let the tension eke its own way out, taking a moment to gather her wits. 

Half-way across the world, and her travels had just begun. 

Ishizu Ishtar breathed out, turning from the slab to find a rich man’s address.

\---

On the wall, the clock ticked to a quarter past five. 

Yugi’s mouth thinned as he stared at the phone. Its silence mocked him, _especially_ for an inanimate object. Izumi shuffled absently through promotional flyers for near-by gaming tournaments, glancing up every so often to squint at both him and his subject of concentration.

The click of another minute passing reverberated loudly in the empty shop. Yugi sighed through his nose and shifted his weight to his other foot, arms folded on the counter.

Time went on.

Another second saw his head pillowed in said arms. Another five minutes, and it officially marked the fifth day of no word from the Kaiba brothers. 

Rather than forget, Yugi’s concern only grew. 

_Had_ he gotten them into trouble by being there? Even if their father hadn’t seen him, it was hard to explain away a new bike in the garage. Or, somehow, _was_ it the cards? Maybe their father had an old estrangement with Duel Monsters, a terrible tale that even still left marks on the man’s aged heart. Maybe seeing the cards caused him to fall back into bad habits. Maybe his adopted sons having friends over reminded him of their growing up and leaving him. Maybe the brothers had a history of an addiction to the game, and the money paying his delivery bill was an unknown syphon. 

A cough, the residue of his sickness, interrupted the chain of thought. For the best: he was getting ridiculous.

The absolute terror on their father’s surprise arrival… Were they even alright?

“You know,” Izumi hummed, “we could check it out for ourselves instead of waiting for Mokuba to call. We could take the initiative. It might get us somewhere. At the least, it’d get you away from staring at that phone.” 

Yugi’s frown deepened, but as no call came and worry twisted his guts into knots, he reluctantly pulled away from the phone to inform his grandpa that he would be back in under an hour. 

The sun hid behind white, fluffy clouds, casting moving shadows on the road Yugi rode his bike on. Domino City’s cramped urban buildings fell away to green yards and tall gates, the houses taller and wider, the signs to train stations all but disappearing. He was a bit more out of breath than usual when he pulled up to the Kaiba mansion’s familiar tan gatehouse, having to take time to push his bangs from his sweaty forehead before approaching the guard’s window. 

Inside wasn’t the frowning man with the lizard—instead, a box-faced woman quirked her lip in disgust at him, her daemon a mean-looking hawk. 

“What d’you want?” She demanded, making Yugi jump.

He stuttered, fidgeting with his bike’s handlebars – her daemon’s eyes snapped to the movement. He forced himself to stop. “Um, that is – just – I was wondering if Mokuba was in?”

Better to use the name of the brother who actually invited him. Her eyes narrowed at him, but when she didn’t answer, nervousness had words tumble from his mouth.

“I—I normally deliver packages for him. Personally. As in, I deliver them in person. Ah. Sometimes we talk, and though he hasn’t ordered anything today, I haven’t heard from him in a while, so I was wondering--”

“He’s fine.” The woman waved a dismissive hand at him, her look switching to disinterest.

It took the wind straight from Yugi’s sails. “Oh.” A beat. “Thank… you. Do you mind if I--?”

“You’ve got no appointment.”

_Appointment?_

“Er, no.”

She sniffed. Her daemon clacked his sharp beak at him. “Why would you be allowed in, then?”

“I…” He hadn’t even finished his question! Sure, she’d guessed what it would have been perfectly, but he couldn't help feeling ruffled over the principle of the thing. Mentally, he floundered – technically, all he’d wanted to do was make sure the brothers were fine, but _technically_ , he never lived on technicalities, and being turned away from a simple face-to-face conversation raised all of his red flags. The woman wouldn’t be convinced, though: he knew as much by the disregard in her eyes, the unconcerned way she held his gaze. Feeling his time for questions run out, he blurted the next thing to pop into his mind: “What about Seto? How’s he?”

 _That_ got her to raise an eyebrow. “Seto? The older one?”

Yugi nodded.

Her daemon cocked his head at him, feathers rustling. The guard herself eyed him, paying particular attention his bike.

The way she looked at him – it gave him the creeps.

“Say,” she drawled, rising slowly from her chair, “maybe I was too hasty with you, kid. What was your name?”

Yugi took a breath –

“Don’t!” Hissed Izumi, climbing quick from his backpack to his shoulder.

Too late. “It’s Yugi.”

“Yugi, huh?” Her hand moved to a phone on the side of the guard’s door, her eyes never leaving him. “You wait a moment while I phone ahead. I’ll see if Seto wants to talk with you.”

 _Seto never wants to talk with me,_ came the irrelevant thought, before the implication between her eying his bike and phoning ahead sunk in. A cold chill crept down his spine. On his shoulder, Izumi drew back, steeling herself for their mad dash away. 

Which. He was going to do.

Except she did say, “Hello, Mr. Kaiba? A guest has arrived.” And he’d come all this way. “His name is Yugi. He’s asking after the younger masters.” And it would be a shame to turn back without anything to show for it, “Understood, sir,” especially if the brothers _did_ come out.

"Really not liking this, Yugi,” whispered Izumi into his ear, her breath sending a tickling jolt down his spine. “Why are we not leaving. We should be leaving.”

“You got a last name, sweetheart?” The guard asked, leaning far too casually on the windowsill.

Stalling, Yugi turned his gaze toward the mansion’s distant doors as they opened for two figures.

Two tall, quickly approaching, dark-suited figures. 

Definitely not the brothers.

“Um,” said Yugi. 

“Actually, I think I left my front door unlocked,” said Yugi.

“So, I’ve got to go, sorry, good-bye!” said Yugi, jerking his bike around and swinging himself onto the seat, kicking off despite the guard’s _hey! Wait a second!_ He pedaled as fast as he could, not daring to look back. 

A hawk’s screech echoed after him as he tore through the neighborhood’s streets. Once the Kaiba mansion faded from Izumi’s backwards-facing view, nothing more pursued them; still, it wasn’t until he arrived back at the Kame Game Shop that he breathed a sigh of relief. But even as he did, he looked toward the silent phone with a heavy weight in his stomach - his other self's words, _you're too kind_ , reverberated in his mind.

It really wasn't any of his business. He was invited to duel. Nothing more, nothing less, insofar as the Kaibas' intentions could be said to go.

That conclusion didn't feel satisfying at all.

Taking a deep breath, Yugi's hand found the puzzle around his neck, letting its warmth seep into his palm.

 _Never mind time._ The mysteries couldn't persist forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m primarily pulling from the Japanese anime’s canon (including Series 0), though the names are English! Timelines will heavily deviate from here, as Kaiba isn’t in the position to start up a Battle City tournament. The Rare Hunters and Marik, too, are going to be more aggressive in tracking down the Pharaoh. I’ll make sure to note any changes in warnings – or ships - as they appear, but please take care of the tags listed.
> 
> Again, thanks so much for reading!


End file.
